


liar, liar

by Catstycam



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Feanorian Week 2020, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I have no regrets, I wrote this and now i think i might actually like curufin, Lies, Manipulation, Save Me, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Truth, in this house we love celebrimbor, no beta we die like men, or women, poor curufin, why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23334247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catstycam/pseuds/Catstycam
Summary: Curufin, and lying.Or- sometimes the truth hurts more than lies.A character study for Feanorian Week 2020.
Relationships: Celebrimbor | Telperinquar & Curufin | Curufinwë, Celebrimbor | Telperinquar & Fëanor | Curufinwë, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Curufin | Curufinwë, Curufin | Curufinwë & Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Curufin | Curufinwë & Fëanor | Curufinwë
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30
Collections: Feanorian Week 2020





	liar, liar

First, he is Curufinwe, skilled, a mirror of his firebrand father. Curufinwe is a promise and an oath and a weight on his shoulders, it is the people who look at his work and say good, but-  
One day, Curufinwe swears, there will not be a but.  
When Tyelperinquar is born, he names him something beautiful. This child is so perfect, so fragile, and he will not break him with the weight of the ones who came before. He says he will be the best of us. Nobody wants to listen. (he doesn't want to know how right he is.) 

Then- Alqualondë. Afterwards, he sits on the beach, sand sticking to his bloody hands, and all he can think is that he will need to clean his sword.  
The Oath burns in the back of his head. He shoves it down. Curufinwe still has strength enough for this.  
Flames flicker in front of him as he throws a torch. It leaps from his hand in a furious blaze. When the ships burn, they are beautiful in their silent lament. He laughs, high and cold and clear, and feels silver tears run down his cheeks. 

When the ashes that used to be his father float above his head, he does not weep. Instead, he screams.  
He screams at Moringotto, screams accusations and hatred and all the fire he didn't know he had, screams that turn into broken sobs until Tyelpe comes, eyes wide.  
Atar, what's wrong?  
I am what's wrong, he wants to say, I was meant to stop this, he loved me, I was supposed to be as great as he-!  
Instead he says Haru is dead and dries Tyelpe's eyes when he begins to cry. 

Second, he is Curufin.  
Curufinwe was soft, coddled and pretending to be sure of himself. Curufin is ice cold, lying and lying until he feels he's drowning. I'm fine. We're safe.  
I'm not scared.  
Curufin does not hurt, does not burn, does not flake to ashes bit by bit-

Himlad falls and they run, picking up bits of themselves as they go. His dreams are stalked by fire. Wyrms hide in the shadows when he looks over his shoulder. Celegorm tells him to hope, to dream, so he smiles and says he's hoping and can't decide whether to be happy or sad that Celegorm believed him.  
Finrod welcomes them, of course, says I would not leave you in the cold and smiles like a shark as he does so. 

The Man comes to Nargothrond and with him he brings ruin. Beren swirls through their lives like smoke on the breeze and before Curufin has time to breathe Finrod, that noble fool, is throwing away lives for the sake of a Man.  
Gold glistens on his head and for a moment Curufin hears his father, hears ambition and jealousy and such longing, such terrible longing that burns his heart and twists his thought.  
He speaks, and this time, Curufin the Crafty does not lie.  
Do you want to die?  
Tyelperinquar is in the churning crowd and Curufin draws on his terror, finds his fear for his son and shoves it at the people of Finarfin. This is what I know, he wants to scream. Himlad burns again in words, an orc's scimitar presses against his throat-  
The truth, he thinks, will set you free.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This story is for Feanorian Week 2020, a bit early, but I've just finished editing and couldn't wait to post it. Please comment, it really makes my day. 
> 
> Catstycam xx  
> (I wrote another, much longer, note, except for some reason it got deleted just as I was about to post it, and right now I just want to go to bed.)


End file.
